I’m Kayla. I draw blood for a living, and for two years I hit the road for it. I worked travel phlebotomy jobs from big hospitals to tiny clinics to folks’ living rooms. I kept notes, I kept receipts, and I kept a spare tourniquet in every bag. Here’s my take—plain and honest.
Curious how my journey compares to another road warrior? Check out this deeper dive into life as a travel phlebotomist.
Why I tried it
I loved the lab, but I wanted new skills and new places. I also needed more pay than my local job. A recruiter from Aya Healthcare called. Then one from Cross Country. I said yes to a 13-week gig, and, well, the suitcase never went back in the closet.
Two real weeks from my logbook
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Phoenix, AZ (summer, 12-hour shifts): Start at 4:00 a.m. We used Epic. I carried a tray with 21G straight needles, 23G butterflies, and dermal lancets. I averaged 55 sticks per shift—fasting labs, pre-op screens, and a steady trickle of ER add-ons. A lead named José showed me a slick hand-draw trick for rolling veins: angle low, gentle anchor, two-tube max with a 23G. It saved so many redraws.
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Fargo, ND (winter, 8-week contract): Mobile route in snow, long roads, long sleeves. My day started at 3:30 a.m. I had a route sheet for nursing homes and a few home draws. We used paper labels, then scanned at the lab. One morning the van slid on black ice. I still made it by 6:05. The charge nurse met me with hot cocoa. Small kindness, big boost.
Pay, housing, and the not-fun math
My weekly gross ranged from about $1,000 to $1,500. For a broader point of reference, the nationwide averages for travelers are broken down on Salary.com’s travel phlebotomist salary page.
Some weeks had a tax-free stipend for housing and meals (you need a tax home for that). Hourly rates for me were mostly in the low to mid-20s. There’s also an up-to-date crowd-sourced chart of pay packages that you can browse on Vivian Health.
Overtime kicked in after 40 hours at time-and-a-half.
Housing ate a chunk. I tried Furnished Finder first, then short stays at extended-stay hotels when I got stuck. Later, I discovered ValidTravel, and its short-term housing marketplace shaved a couple hundred dollars off each monthly rent. In Phoenix, my studio ran around $1,350 a month. In Fargo, it was cheaper, but I bought snow tires, so who’s counting? Mileage pay helped on mobile weeks, but it didn’t love my old SUV like I did.
Is it amazing money? For phlebotomy, better than staff where I live. For travel life, it’s decent—if you watch costs and skip three DoorDash orders a day. I learned to meal prep, like a grown-up with a cooler and a dream.
The gear that saved my shift
- Butterflies (23G and 25G). Veins bless them.
- Extra tube holders. Somehow they disappear.
- Coban, alcohol pads, and 2×2 gauze in a small belt pouch.
- A label maker for my name and phone on everything I own.
- Compression socks and HOKA Bondi shoes. My feet sighed.
- Hand warmers for cold hands, which equal grumpy veins.
- A spare tourniquet in the car. And yes, a backup to the backup.
Little side note: I tried fancy vein lights a few times. Fun, but a good anchor and patient talk worked better for me.
The good stuff that made me stay
- Skills jump fast. Hard sticks become… less hard. Dialysis arms, chemo ports (we didn’t access ports, but you learn to plan around them), tiny hand veins—you get calm with it.
- New people, every day. I met snowplow drivers at 5 a.m., and teachers on their lunch break, and one man who told jokes through every tube pull.
- Variety. Hospital floors, outpatient labs, blood drives with Vitalant, even a week of insurance exams with ExamOne. Boredom had no chance.
- Managers who teach. One supervisor in Phoenix showed me a micro-collection flow that cut heel-stick time in half. I still use her steps.
- Got drawn into the dialysis world? Peek at this straight-talk review of travel dialysis tech jobs to see how those skills translate on the road.
The hard stuff I won’t sugarcoat
- Early, early mornings. Your body adjusts. Kind of. Some days coffee is a food group.
- New charting systems all the time—Epic here, Cerner there, Meditech somewhere else. Labels print different. Wristbands scan weird.
- Traveler vibes. A few units were warm on day one. A few took a week. And one never did warm up, but I did my job and kept it kind.
- Weather and roads. Try finding Apartment C in a snowstorm with the clock ticking on a fasting patient. You learn to laugh. Later.
- Contracts can get canceled. It happened to me once. I scrambled and picked up PRN shifts with a local lab to bridge the gap.
Licenses and badges, the simple version
I carry a national cert (ASCP). Some places also accept NHA or AMCA. California needed my CPT-I, which I got before a Fresno contract. Most other states took my national cert plus a background check, drug screen, TB test, and shot records. BLS wasn’t always required, but I kept it current. It helps.
Who should try this?
- Newer phlebotomists with solid sticks and a calm voice.
- Folks who like change and don’t freeze under pressure.
- People okay with a suitcase life and random coffee makers.
Nurses sometimes ask if the same freedom exists for them. Spoiler: it does—this candid look at LPN travel jobs shows how the leap feels from the nursing side.
Not your thing if you hate 4 a.m., GPS drama, or meeting new staff every few months. And that’s okay. Staff jobs are steady and kind to a routine.
Tips I wish someone told me
- Keep a “hard stick” card in your pocket—names of nurses who can help, extension numbers, and unit quirks.
- Label at the bedside. Say the name out loud with the patient. Every time.
- Ask for a real unit tour day one. Where the centrifuge sits, where to drop STATs, who to call if the printer dies at 4:12 a.m.
- Track your expenses weekly. Gas, gloves, scrubs, food. Taxes will thank you.
- Leave one good thing in every place—an updated tray layout, a fresh cheat sheet, a nice note. It comes back around.
Downtime on the road can get lonely. Some travelers blow off steam by hopping into group chats or trading playful photos on messaging apps like Kik. If you’re curious about how that works—or want a primer on staying safe while sharing more daring images—check out this straightforward rundown of Kik nudes, which covers privacy settings, consent etiquette, and smart ways to keep screenshots from haunting your future self. Speaking of finding company off-shift, if your next contract lands you in Iowa, you can scope out the local adult-friendly social scene through AdultLook Cedar Rapids, a curated directory packed with reviews and safety pointers so you can meet new people confidently and keep your downtime both fun and secure.
If your happy place is more pill counts than pipettes, this on-the-road reflection from a travel pharmacy tech shows how contract life plays out behind the med cart. And for the multitaskers toggling between vitals and venipuncture, here’s a no-fluff take on travel medical assistant gigs that nails the highs and lows.
One more tiny story
I had a patient who fainted with needles. We breathed together, counted to four in, four out. I warmed his hand. I used a 23G butterfly and a gentle anchor. One clean tube, then two, then three. He smiled after and said, “That wasn’t so bad.” I nodded like it was normal, but inside? A little fist pump. That’s the job.
My bottom line
Travel phlebotomy isn’t perfect. It’s early alarms, cold hallways, and labels that love to stick to your wrist. But it’s also skill, growth, and moments that feel big, even if they’re